A History Of English Literature
by Bryher
Summary: Exams and revision are doing nasty things to the knight's ficdom. Pure silliness. ONESHOT.


**Title:** A History of English Literature.

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Exams and revision are doing nasty things to the knight's ficdom. Pure silliness.

**Author's Notes:** Revising and watching King Arthur is not productive. And Hugh Dancy is very distracting. Lucifer Box is from Mark Gatiss's inspired novels. I have recently finished 'The Vesuvius Club' and recommend it to anyone.

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I rubbed my eyes with one hand, struggling to focus on the book that lay open before me. _A History of English Literature_ was certainly informative, but did little for one's drive to study.

After a moment I slumped back in my seat and groaned. 'Studying not going so well, then?' a voice chuckled behind me.

With a yell, I twisted in my computer chair. Misjudging the swing of the damn thing, I collapsed in a heap on the floor.

Galahad burst out laughing.

Glaring at him, I opened my mouth to shoot a retort and yelped as _The Norton Anthology of Poetry, 5__th__ Edition_ slid off the desk and bounced off my head.

Galahad folded his arms over his chest, leaning back against the wall at the side of my bed, a smirk on his face.

'What in God's name are you _doing_ here, Galahad?' I grumbled, pulling myself up. Perching himself on the edge of my bed, the youngest knight grinned roguishly at me. 'Seeing how you're doing, that's all,' he said airily. 'You haven't written anything for a while.'

'No, I haven't,' I retorted. 'Because I'm in the middle my damn exams.'

He rolled his eyes and scooped the hefty book of poetry up in one hand. 'This is what you're studying?' he said dubiously, flicking through the pages. 'Looks boring.'

'You,' I sighed, grabbing the book from him, 'can't read. So don't pretend to be all clever. And if you're here to goad me into writing, you can go away. I don't have time. And as for you popping in all the time? Up with that I shall not put!'

A hurt expression crossed the knight's face and I raised my face to the ceiling, closing my eyes.

'Don't look at me like that,' I muttered, eyes still closed.

'Like what?' Galahad replied. I heard him get up, and then shrieked as his arms looped around my waist, pulling me to him. Opening my eyes, I glared at him, planting my hands against his chest. 'Like a kicked puppy,' I growled, pushing against him. 'And you can stop this, too!'

'Stop what?' he said innocently, tightening his grip. I glared at him. 'Stop what?' he repeated, head lowering a fraction as his long-lashed eyes glittered with amusement. He glanced down at my lips. I decided evasive action was needed.

I stamped on his toe.

'This…bloody… seduction…thing!' I grunted, wriggling out of his grip and dropping back onto the bed as Galahad hopped on one foot, assessing the damage.

'Ow!' he said finally, glaring at me.

'It's your own fault,' I replied primly, giving him a haughty look.

'Bryher,' he grumbled, 'We've not done anything for ages! _And_ we had a Mary-Sue that we had to deal with on our own!'

I sat up, frowning. 'A Mary-Sue? I thought they couldn't get into your ficdom anymore?'

Galahad shot me a look. 'Apparently not,' he said snootily.

Then, quite suddenly, a bang, curse and another bang reverberated from my en-suite bathroom.

I dropped back onto my pillows, covering my face with my hands.

'Go away,' I pleaded. 'Please! I have exams!'

A moment later, Arthur pulled my hands away from my face. 'Are you alright, Bryher?' he asked softly.

'Gaah!'

Jumping up, I grabbed _The Norton Anthology_ and held it in front of me like a shield. 'See this?' I shrieked. 'It's a book! A big, heavy book full of poems by mainly dead people! I have to learn quite a lot of it in two weeks! I can't write anything!'

Arthur stared at me as though I'd gone mad. Considering anyone watching the debacle unfolding inside the dorms would have seen a caffeine driven student brandishing a book of poetry and shouting at the air, this was not surprising. I lowered the book and placed it on the desk behind me.

'Actually,' he said slowly, 'Galahad was supposed to come here and tell you that someone from another fandom has paid a visit to us recently. We know you can't write anything else for the moment.'

I shot Galahad a scathing look, for which he had the good grace to blush. 'What?' he muttered as Arthur raised his eyebrows at him. 'I saw an opportunity and took it..'

'Someone from another fandom?' I sighed, pulling my hands through my curly hair. 'Who is it?'

'Lucifer Box,' Galahad supplied crossly. 'Dashing fellow, handsome. Seems to think he's the object of your affection?'

'Jealous, Gal?' I said with a sickly sweet smile. 'And for your information, Lucifer thinks he's the object of _everyone's_ affections, so don't go getting funny ideas.' Galahad scowled at me. I stuck my tongue out at him.

Turning back to the Roman Commander, I offered him a sheepish grin. 'I'm so tired I can't keep everyone apart in my head,' I explained. 'I'll get rid of him. Sorry.'

Arthur patted my hand. 'It's fine, Bryher. Just thought you should know.'

'Thanks. Next time, just don't send Don Juan over there,' I grumbled.

Arthur laughed, then stood. 'Come, Galahad. We'll leave her to study.' He waved, then faded.

I waved a hand at Galahad. 'Go on,' I chirped, 'Off you go.'

He glared at me, then strode the two paces to where I stood, wrapping an arm around my waist and pinning the back of my thighs against the desk. I squeaked as he pulled me up sharp and leant down to my ear. 'I want something written soon, Bryher. Please' he whispered hotly.

I closed my eyes and struggled to think of boring poetry rather than the fetching young knight.

It must have worked, because seconds later, I was released. Opening my eyes, I breathed a sigh of relief. 'No Galahad for _you_,' I muttered to myself.

Turning back to my desk, I glanced down for _A History of English Literature_.

It had vanished.

'_Galahad!' _

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